


Redemption

by JimmyPenguin421



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Force Afterlife (Star Wars), Gen, Light Angst, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Movie: Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Skywalker Family Feels (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:28:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26898958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JimmyPenguin421/pseuds/JimmyPenguin421
Summary: My version of the ending of Return of the Jedi.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Luke Skywalker
Comments: 9
Kudos: 88





	Redemption

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I Don't Want You To Be At Peace (I Want You To Fight)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25535599) by [Sealure](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sealure/pseuds/Sealure). 



Anakin opened his eyes to nothingness.

He turned his head back and forth, trying to look around, and felt a strange sensation against the back of his neck.

Was that… hair?

Did he have hair now?

He reached up toward his head, then froze.

His arm was light, not the heavy replacement he’d grown used to.

And he could feel fabric brushing over his skin.

He looked toward his arm.

It was _his_ arm, his real arm, beautiful tan skin.

He looked down and saw light robes, not black armor.

He ran a hand over his head, feeling the gentle pulling sensation against his scalp and the hair brushing between his fingers.

Was this what death was?

He felt more alive than he had for a long time.

He looked around again.

There was nothing to see. Nothing but him.

Well, if this was death, it wasn’t so bad. Maybe a little boring.

“Anakin.”

That voice. He knew that voice. 

It had haunted his dreams for years.

Was this a dream, some type of illusion?

He turned around in a circle, trying to see where it had come from. 

Even turning around was amazing, the way his legs supported him and moved easily at his will.

But he saw nothing, no person who could’ve spoken.

“Anakin?”

There. That way.

He ran in the direction of the voice.

“Anakin!”

He could see the owner of the voice now, someone he thought he’d never see again, running toward him, arms open wide.

He held out his arms, and they collided together, and then Padmé was crying, pressing herself close against him, and he was crying too, holding her just as tightly.

“I… I’m so sorry,” he sobbed. “Everything… it was my fault, I’m so, so, sorry, Padmé.”

“It’s okay now, Ani,” she said, her voice choked. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

He shook his head and tried to protest, but she shushed him and guided his head down to rest on her shoulder.

How could she forgive him?

How did he even deserve to be in the same universe as her?

He collapsed into her arms, sobbing again, and she held him.

“Shh, Ani, it’s all right now,” she whispered. “It’s all right.”

* * *

Luke set the shuttle down in a clearing and sighed.

Everyone would be glad to hear that Vader was dead.

And Luke _was_ glad.

But he wasn’t glad that Anakin was gone.

He got up out of the pilot’s seat, and walked slowly back into the hold.

Anakin Skywalker lay there, his scarred face calm and peaceful, his eyes, the eyes that Luke knew to be blue like his, closed.

Luke swallowed and looked away, pressing the button to open the hatch.

Before the ramp had even finished lowering, someone came charging up.

The Force told Luke that there was nothing to fear, and so he simply stepped aside as the person—a Togruta, he noticed—ran up and fell to her knees beside Anakin.

For a moment, she just stared at him. 

And then, Luke heard her breathe, “Anakin…”

Had she known him? And why did she call him Anakin, instead of assuming it was Vader?

She took Anakin’s remaining mechanical hand in her own. “Oh, Skyguy,” she whispered. Luke thought he heard a sniffle.

And then the woman turned and looked up at him.

She had orange skin with white markings, and blue-striped headtails. Luke was sure he had never seen her before, but at the same time she somehow felt familiar.

“You… you saved him,” she said, giving Luke a slight smile.

How did she know? Was she a Jedi? Were there more?

Hesitantly, Luke reached out with the Force and brushed his presence against hers.

Her smile widened, and she returned the gesture. 

She _was_ a Jedi. Or at least she could use the Force. 

“You’re so much like him,” she said, her cerulean eyes sparkling.

As their signatures twined together in the Force, Luke instantly realized why she felt familiar. 

He could feel an echo of Anakin in her, just as she seemed to have sensed in him.

“You knew him,” he said, kneeling down next to her.

She nodded. “He was my master,” she said, smiling sadly. “My closest friend.” She looked down at Anakin again. 

Luke felt a twinge of sorrow and… was that jealousy? That this woman had known his own father better than he had? 

He exhaled, releasing the feelings into the Force. “I’m sorry.”

She smiled at him, and shook her head slightly. “Don’t be,” she said softly. “You brought him back.”

* * *

Anakin didn’t know how much time had passed.

He was still slumped against Padmé, her fingers combing through his hair as she held him.

He still couldn’t believe that she had forgiven him.

He had hurt her, he had _killed_ her.

And he had done so many other horrible things…

Obi-Wan, he had killed Obi-Wan, his master, his friend.

He _had_ to see him. He had to apologize.

No sooner had he thought that than he heard Obi-Wan’s voice.

“Anakin.”

Anakin jerked away from Padmé and spun to face his old master.

And there he was, looking just the same as he had when he died.

When Anakin killed him.

Anakin leaped to his feet. “Obi-Wan, I am _so_ sorry—”

Obi-Wan held up a hand. “Don’t.”

Yes, he deserved this, deserved to be ignored, shunned, hated, but couldn’t Obi-Wan at least allow him to clear his conscience an iota by apologizing? “Obi—”

Obi-Wan shook his head, stepping closer. “It wasn’t you, Anakin.”

It _was_ him. _He_ did all those things, there was no excuse. “I—”

And then he tensed and froze, because Obi-Wan had closed the distance between them and enfolded Anakin tightly in his arms.

“You are my brother, Anakin, and I love you,” Obi-Wan whispered.

How could Obi-Wan and Padmé just accept him back after all he had done?

Once more, Anakin found himself crying into the embrace of a friend he didn’t deserve.

But all the same, he was glad Obi-Wan didn’t let go of him.

* * *

Anakin’s body lay on top of a funeral pyre.

Luke and Ahsoka had gathered the wood themselves. Several Ewoks had followed them, chattering eagerly and clearly asking if they wanted help, but they had declined. It would feel wrong for anyone to do it but themselves.

They had built the pyre, laid Anakin on it. Now all that was left was to light it.

Luke sighed, looking down at the body on the stacked wood. “Father… I wish I could’ve known you. Really known you. And Mother, and Leia.”

Briefly, he pondered how his life would have looked if he had grown up with his parents, his sister, his _family._

He brushed those thoughts gently aside. No use dwelling on what-ifs.

“But…” he said aloud, his gaze rising from his father to the trees, the beautiful green trees, and the stars. “I’m glad to have known you as much as I did. May the Force be with you, Father.”

He felt Ahsoka lay her hand on his shoulder.

She stepped up next to him and, like he had done, looked down at Anakin.

“Anakin… I missed you so much.” She sighed shakily. “You were my best friend, and I’ll always remember you that way, no matter what.”

She paused, and Luke didn’t need the Force to tell that she was struggling to contain her emotions.

“And you were right,” she went on, her voice sounding tighter. “I never would’ve made it as Obi-Wan’s Padawan.”

She broke off again, drew a quivering breath.

“Thank you, Master,” she whispered, bowing her head. “May the Force be with you.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the only sounds the soft breeze in the trees, the distant song of the Ewoks, the chirping of birds.

And then, after a minute, Luke felt Ahsoka’s eyes on him, silently saying that she was ready.

He stepped off to the side, taking two torches from their sconces, and held one out to Ahsoka.

She glanced at the torch, then at him, unsure.

He gave a slight nod.

Her lips curved up a bit, and she accepted the torch. 

They faced the pyre, and he felt her looking to him again. 

He breathed in, breathed out.

Then he raised his torch, and she hers.

They lit the pyre in unison. The flame caught quickly, and crackled softly as it spread.

And as the body of Anakin Skywalker became one with the Force, as the smoke floated up to the starry sky, Luke felt something stir.

He turned, and there was the shimmering form of Obi-Wan standing near the edge of the platform, and Yoda beside him, perched on the railing.

And beside them stood a tall man with familiar blue eyes, and a shorter woman with dark hair. 

They smiled proudly, fondly, and in that moment, Luke knew them for who they were.

At this moment, he couldn’t have asked for anything more than this—just to see them, to know that they loved him and were proud.

He smiled back.

Ahsoka laid her hand on his shoulder again. He looked at her, and he knew from her face that she saw the ghosts too.

She smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and together they watched the funeral pyre burn itself out.


End file.
